Today is Father's Day. I suppose that I rarely write or even speak of my dad. I do not recall the exact date, but Dad died in 2003 at the age of 81. He had been a survivor of the Great Depression, a tail gunner on a B-29 bomber in the Pacific theater during WWII, and a Baptist preacher. I have little recollection of my father sitting around, dithering away the day. If there were no work to do, my dad would find some work.
One event shared with my dad stands out clearly in my mind. My father never pastored a church of more than a few score members, and fewer who actually attended. On one particular Wednesday evening, my father and I were first to arrive to church. The rest of our family had reason to stay home, and so apparently did everyone else. Alas, when time came for the mid-week service to begin, Dad and I were the only ones present.
"Son, if you'll play the piano, I'll lead the singing." So I played, and Dad stood at the podium, leading the singing that included only him and me. After the singing, Dad preached a sermon, I being the only other person in attendance. I don't know what all I learned from my dad, but one thing I learned for sure: if you have been given a job to do, do it. No excuses -- just do it with everything you've got.
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Originally Posted by Karen
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